


Your Blood, My Tears

by Mysticmataki



Series: Out of the Storm [3]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Amputation, Blood and Gore, F/M, Magic, Mercenaries, Pre-Canon, Surgery, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-18 20:05:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19341676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mysticmataki/pseuds/Mysticmataki
Summary: The battle raged on outside, but a couple in the medical tent were fighting their own war. A Pre-Canon tale with Catherine (F! Apprentice / OC) and Lucio in their mercenary days, and the poor doctor who had to assist them in one of their darkest moments.





	Your Blood, My Tears

For hours there had only been the clang of iron, of steel against steel ringing out on the crowded battlefield. Every person who stood on the dry dirt had arrived with one goal, and that was to kill, since the majority of them found a gross satisfaction in the act of war itself. Seeing the blood pour from their enemy’s mouth as a sword was pierced through their abdomen, feeling the distinct crack of an axe smashing through bone, hearing the thud against the hard ground when the body finally fell, that was where the real satisfaction came from, not from the pittance of gold they had been given before and promised to double upon the end of the battle. 

But now the smell of blood, once metallic and sleek against the dry heat, was now tinged with the bitter sting of antiseptic and the screams, once simple grunts and shouts as a means of release on the field, had now turned to cries of terror. The medical tent that had lied at the outskirts of the battle had slowly filled as the hours passed by, the injuries ranging from a simple cut that a first time fighter got in a stupid move and the most fatal of injuries, some taking their final breaths as the world moved past them.

Crying out over any other noise were two voices, both yelling at the other indignantly, their voices getting only louder and louder as seconds went by. 

“You’ve got to stop moving!”

“No! I won’t allow it!”

“It’s the only way!”

“It can’t be!”

A blonde man with silver eyes and a woman with brown hair and green eyes remained in this screaming match as he tried to leave and she struggled to get him to stay on the table. Standing to the side and watching this battle was a younger doctor, a regular field medic with excellent bedside manners who had absolutely no idea how to breech this fight and start working. The blonde should have been barely conscious, but the adrenaline rushing through his veins as a response to the shock kept him alert, alert and bleeding onto the floor from the large gash on his left arm that was barely being kept together with a weak bandage. 

The two kept yelling but the doctor finally was able to break in, albeit with a weak, “Madame, you should leave,” before the other two were now yelling at him. 

“I’m not leaving!”  
“We’re both leaving!”

And with that they were at each other’s throats again, the doctor truly at a loss as to what to do next.

“You are going to die you moron!”

“I would rather die than lose my arm! Can’t you do anything?”

With that, the woman jumped onto the table, straddling the man and pressing him down onto his back by pressing a knee hard on his chest. His breathing started to falter as she pressed down more and moved to apply more weight, but he wouldn’t stop resisting, trying desperately to get her off of him.

“I said do something! I’ve seen you heal before!”

“Yes, minor cuts and bruises! I can’t save this though, no one can!”

“What kind of magician are you?” The man spat out, vitriol in his voice as he stilled for a moment, his eyes as sharp as flint as his breaths turned shallower the longer she stayed atop him. 

That comment seemed to break something in her and her hands went from resting on his chest to grasping at his collar, her fingers tightly coiled in the white blouse as she pushed him down harshly. Her knee pressed even harder into his chest as she dipped her head low, loose strands of hair covered in sweat brushing across his forehead as her eyes darkened and she stared at him quietly. It was the quietest it had been since the two had barreled in here only moments before, but she broke the silence with a sharp whisper, “One who doesn’t want you to die.”

Time seemed to stop around just the two of them, the doctor unsure of what to do next as he watched this unusual pair stare at each other down. He felt like an intruder to an impossibly private moment, as if he shouldn’t have seen what had just transpired. There was something about the entire image, this powerful woman holding this equally powerful man down as the sound of war rang on feet away and as the screams of others were nothing but background music to their personal battle. He couldn’t look away, he didn’t want to look away. He was captivated by the entire ordeal and he would have stayed that way had it not been for the other man’s annoyed grumbling out of no where and the harsh yell of the woman being directed his way instead. 

“Did you hear me? I said let’s do it now!” 

Within seconds he had sprung to action, his nerves dissipating as she leapt off the table and started looking at the binding on it, wrapping them around his legs tightly. The doctor tossed her a small vial, shouting, “Have him drink this!” while he went back to preparing his other items needed to perform the amputation. She held it to his lips and he greedily drank it down, eyes glazing over in seconds as the pure alcohol mixed with pain killer hit him. He started to lay back and she tied his other arm down, and by the time the doctor turned around, bone cutter in hand she was seated behind the man’s head, looking down at him before looking up at the doctor, eyes wild and gaze burning in him. 

“Last chance,” he warned and she shook her head, looking back down at her companion, the two of them completely trapped in each other’s gaze. He tossed her a gag but the blond screamed, “No! Just do it!” Walking towards them, the doctor rose the curved blade but stopped from slamming it down when he heard another shout. 

“Don’t you dare!” He screeched, the rage in his voice radiating through the tent. The woman now had his head in her hands, her palms resting lightly on him as she took in shuddered breaths, shaking her head furiously. Despite her ragged breathing, matching the blonde’s breath for breath as if they were completely in sync, the sweat on their brow seemingly falling in the same way, her eyes were filled with nothing but love. She ran a thumb gently across his cheek and he tried to pull away but the medicine had dulled his senses greatly and he was unable to move. Looking back to the doctor, she nodded to him and without hesitation he brought the blade down. 

Immediately the tent was filled with a pained howl, and as the blonde cried out in pain and swore to some god that the doctor had never heard of the woman screamed with him, tears pouring down her face and onto his. As the knife curved around his arm, muscle tearing away and being cut out of the way the two stayed in their confusing state. When she stopped crying the tears would start to pour down his face, when he stopped swearing the words would roll off her lips instead. In the midst of it all the doctor couldn’t help but think that despite the fact that both would scream together it only was as loud as if it was one person alone. Their voices seemed to blend together, an almost perfect marriage as each increase in pitch was matched, each stilted breath taken at the same time. When he choked out “Stop” she just shook her head and placed her forehead against his, the two of them continuing to breathe the other in. 

While he could have stared at the two of them for hours he had a job to do, and as the blood poured onto the dirt below them and the muscle pulled away he turned around and grabbed the saw, placing it against the bone and pushing through despite how loud the screams grew. He had to continue, he had to save this man. 

It was his duty as a doctor.

 

Hours later, the three of them were silent. The blonde laid atop a threadbare cot, breathing finally down to a slow and regular pace after the first few hours post surgery when he had been taking labored breaths despite being fully knocked out. Through it all, the woman had been by his side never taking her eyes off of him. She wiped the sweat from his brow, checked the bandages to ensure they were tight, anything she could do for him she did it. She was seemingly blind to the world around her, her every action dependent on his. 

Standing and watching from the side, the doctor couldn’t help but noticed that when the man started to twitch in his sleep, muttering incomprehensible words she would reach out and gently touch his face and within seconds he was still and peaceful and she instead was the one letting out a shuddered breath. Walking towards her cautiously, she looked up as she heard the shuffle of feet to her and gave a weak smile. He nodded at the stool next to her and she pushed it towards him with her foot. 

Sitting down beside her, he fidgeted more and more as the seconds ticked by. “Umm, he’ll be ok,” he finally stuttered out. 

She snorted at that. “Physically, sure. Mentally? Absolutely not. He’ll have to live with this for the rest of his life. He’s going to remember the moment that man’s axe plunged into his arm, ho’s going to curse himself forever for raising his arm and leaving himself exposed despite his arms. He won’t forget the pain as we stumbled to the tent, he’s never going to forget when you brought that knife to his arm. He won’t be able to return to fighting, which is the only life he’s know. He has plans, he’s ambitious! This is going to change that! And well, I know him. I know how he’ll react when he wakes up.” Her voice raised as she spoke, and her gestures became frantic before her voice dropped and she looked back over to her companion. His breathing had grown heavy again and she dutifully placed her fingers on his forehead and he stopped again. 

“What’s that?”

“Hmm?”

“Uh, well, what you just did. It’s what you were doing during surgery right? Is it a spell?”

“Ahhh, I just shared his pain,” she said, humming at the end as she ran her fingers through the other’s messy blonde hair. Out of nowhere she turned to the doctor and placed her hand on his cheek, taking a deep breath in. In seconds, the stress and fatigue of the day was gone. He had been nervous and filled with worry over the condition of mostly everyone in the tent, and with the simple touch from her those feelings had disappeared, leaving him feeling refreshed, at least emotionally. While sleep might have been difficult before he now felt that he could fall into a deep and restful slumber that moment. 

He looked at her in astonishment, but he noticed that she looked a little more tired than she had moments before, and in a second it hit him, his jaw dropping. 

“You’re an empath.”

“Ding ding ding.”

“That’s what you meant by “shared his pain”.”

“My magic is heavily centered around my emotions. One of my stronger powers is to take or share the emotions or pain that someone is feeling in that moment, although I can do a lot more. He’s going to be so angry at me for that when he wakes up. He hates when I use that on him.”

“Why did you then?”

She snorted again, looking at the doctor with the most steadfast and determined look. “If you could help ease the pain of the one you loved, wouldn’t you do whatever you could? Even if it meant hurting you?”

It was immediately silent between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. He sat pondering her words before he nodded, giving a distinct, “I would.” 

She turned and smiled then, and he returned it before the two softly laughed. 

“Sorry for our behavior before. He’s stubborn.”

“You both are.”

They laughed again and it fell silent before she turned to him and put her hand out. “I’m Catherine. This is M-, ah, Lucio.”

“Julian.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Julian. I will give you fair warning, Lucio isn’t going to be happy with you. It’s no fault of your own though.”

The two smiled and looked back at the blonde before a comment that Julian had heard earlier in the midst of a second operation popped into the front of his mind. “Ah,” he started and Catherine turned to him, a curious look on her face. “Umm, well, I heard a rumor that the man who might have been the one to injure Lucio was found in the middle of the field torn to shreds. No one had a weapon, or the strength, to do that and apparently it happened out of nowhere. Would you, uh, would you happen to know anything?”

He looked to her but she was now looking away, staring back at Lucio with a dark look on her face, a small smile spreading on her lips. 

“What do you think, after what I’ve told you?”

The smile stayed on her lips but immediately disappeared when Lucio coughed and the dark look disappeared and concern filled her face. Had he not seen that shift, Julian wouldn’t have believed she was capable of it but looking from her to the man on the cot he knew that there was a connection between them that was unlike any he had seen in his lifetime. 

And he didn’t want to ever do anything that would get him on either of their bad sides. 

Especially that beautiful magician with the emerald eyes.


End file.
